Here’s a bloggy thing!
Every time I see this ad, I think not of a lonely atheist stuck in a town of dumb believers, but of a lonely atheist stuck in a godless universe – someone who longs to be told they’re not alone in a somewhat larger sense. I mean, look at her. She doesn’t look frustrated because she’s the one smart cookie in a jar full of nuts. She looks like she’s carrying existential dread in her heart and bones.
A nod to Kierkegaard and Walker Percy: existentialist tomfoolery, political satire, literary homage, word mongering, a year-round summer reading club, Dylanesque music bits, apocalyptic marianism, poetry, fiction, meta-porn, a prisoner work-release program.
Søren Kierkegaard
Walker Percy
Bob Dylan
Literature & History
Letters from an American
Beau of the Fifth Column
This American Life
The Writer’s Almanac
San Diego Reader
The Stranger
The Inlander
Adoremus
Charlotte was Both
The Onion
From Empty Hands
Ellen Finnigan
America
Commonweal
First Things
National Review
The New Republic
All Manner of Thing
Gerasene Writers Conference
Scrutinies
DarwinCatholic
Catholic and Enjoying It
Bad Catholic
Universalis
Is My Phylactery Showing?
Quotidian Quintilian
En pocas palabras
William Wilson, Guitarist Extraordinaire
Signposts in a Strange Land
Ben Hatke
Daniel Mitsui
Dappled Things
The Fine Delight
Gene Luen Yang
Wiseblood Books
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The truth always seems to seep through. Thanks Matthew.
Next step is a meeting at a nearby Starbucks. Then, if you’re lucky, happy hour, with maybe a glass of wine and some food. Then it’s a club, with some sort of mission statement, a charitable enterprise or two, and maybe a few guidelines. Then the irony begins to sink in, which you do your best to ignore. Then, unfortunately, somebody gets sick and dies, and maybe you start to think, Man, it’s hard work starting from scratch like this. But one thing is still pretty clear: God couldn’t possibly exist.
I want atheism to be true and am made uneasy by the fact that some of the most intelligent and well-informed people I know are religious believers. It isn’t just that I don’t believe in God and, naturally, hope that I’m right in my belief. It’s that I hope there is no God! I don’t want there to be a God; I don’t want the universe to be like that.
That’s fine, Thomas, but you gotta admit, that’s not the attitude expressed in the face of the girl in the ad there.
I was responding to Mr. Finnegan. I don’t like irony any more than religion. How his picture showed up next to my name is beyond me. Just one more example of injustice in a Godless universe. Poetic injustice.
–The Joker (Alan Moore, Batman: The Killing Joke)
“I want him brought in by The Book! I want to show him that our way works.” – Commissioner Jim Gordon (Alan Moore, Batman: The Killing Joke)
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.
Kinda makes me think, what’s going through the guys head who writes this ad? Like those ads for Quizno’s…the ones with the strange rat like animal screaming at you about sub sandwiches? No, sorry just no, that does NOT make me want one….
I agree with Matt. This makes Atheism look like a sad and lonely, lonely place….hey Atheism Ad-guy, Epic Fail.
He’s Catholic, but an adman first. I once knew a Catholic divorce lawyer.
The girl in the ad looks to me like she’s plugging her ears, too.
She is sad because of the all the hateful religious oppression bearing down on her.
Well, there is that.
Yesterday I saw a live Parisian reading Nietzche on the Metro. We both had scarves and hipster glasses but my scarf was from Target and hers was woven of ennui.
Oh, my goodness this calls for a Korrektiv Animal Kollektiv. The Alsatian Ennui is highly prized for its extremely soft wool, but many seasons, it can’t be bothered to grow any.
Whaa? Envy alert.
Have a quiche for me.
You would be surprised at how dull the cuisine of France is when your preferences are governed by the whims of small children.
This is the saddest thing I have ever read on this blog.
Tell your male offspring that passing up the chance to eat gross stuff like snails and frogs is a definite negative reading on the Boyometer.
Idle curiosity: How much escargot do you consume to correct for your inability to enjoy beer?
Philippians 3:19, Caution.
But what about dessert?
For several summers in my recent Wisconsin past, I would throw hay in the mow of a farmer who offered us water from a pump with a metal cup dangling from a piece of rusted wire he had twisted around the pump’s shaft – and after our labors were done he’d bring out cheese, summer sausage and Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Best part: While the farmer is now retired and no longer in need of my labor, as long as it lasted, there was absolutely no loss of creature in the entire authentic experience.
JOB
(The PBR was served in cans, of course.)
(Ice cold even.)
Unrelated comment alert!!!
Okay, this wasn’t a good movie by any gauge, but man did I laugh at this scene:
Ain’t the worst that I’ve seen.
Looks like most of my students mid-lecture.
Hurm.
There you go–she looks depressed because she’s listening to the debates rather than my super lecture on Faithful Citizenship.
I feel better now. Thanks, Korrektiv!
‘They have eyes but do not see’, etc.